Regret coursed through him as he realized there was a full house.
Grace, who was hunched over her notebook on the dining room table, looked to him as though he was some alien intruder who needed to get the hell off her property.
“Morning,” he mumbled as he crossed over to the coffee maker. His progress was impeded by the two dogs that ran to greet him. “What the hell?” he muttered as he stumbled around them and leaned on the counter.
Princess was her normal, cheerful self, but now she was joined by a massive tank of a dog. Simon couldn’t even think of what breeds made the beast, but he had to weigh well over a hundred pounds.
“Don’t mind Rigby,” said Grace. “He’s friendly.”
Simon rubbed his temples with one hand and set the other one down for Rigby to smell. “Hey there, fella,” he whispered. He hoped the dog liked what he smelled.
“Sorry if I woke you,” said Grace in a tone that implied exactly how not sorry she was. “We have a full day. Tee off for the golf tournament is in three hours, so we have to be at the club as soon as possible to get things together. Rigby is Dean’s dog, and he’s staying here for the day, so he and Princess can keep each other company.”
Simon poured the coffee grounds and water into the coffee maker, not even trying to consider why no one else who was already up and running around at five a.m. had bothered to make coffee. “It’s a busy day then.”
She snorted. “Golf tournament all day. Reception in the evening. I have three different caterers helping out between the day and evening events, three different shifts of wait staff, and a thousand other vendors. Do me a favor. For today, pretend I don’t exist.”
He started to say some witty retort, but was speechless when he finally got a good look at her outfit. She wore a formfitting black dress, the hem low enough to be decent, but high enough to show off her creamy, toned legs. The neckline was a deep v, which also toed the line between indecent and demure. But besides the dress, she was still firmly in preparation mode. Her hair was thrown up in a careless ponytail, and she wore a simple pair of tennis shoes. “You’re going to the country club in that?”
She let out a sigh and set a hand on her hip. “Don’t give me that. This is a fantastic dress that I look great in and is stretchy enough to feel like a nightgown. The shoes are staying on as long as I can keep them.”
He held up his hands. “Just wondering. I’ll stay out of your hair. I promise.”
She nodded and pushed some stray hairs out of her face. “The invitation I left on the counter has the schedule for the day. Since you don’t golf, I’d recommend getting there around five for the cocktail hour and hors d’oeuvres.”
The machine finally started to spit out the coffee he was craving and he let out a sigh of relief. “I assume the food’s going to be good?” He hid his grin behind his now full mug of coffee.
“It’s going to be the best fucking meal of your life, and if you complain about one tiny thing to Sarah or anyone else at the party who isn’t me, Andre, or Dean, I will make you pay. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.”
He snorted, the bitter drink already livening his mood. “I don’t know. I’m rather picky. I hope there’s not oregano in anything. Hate that stuff.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not funny. Don’t try to do funny.”
He raised a brow. “I’ve been told I’m hilarious.”
“You were lied to,” she muttered as she packed her notebook into her computer bag. She pulled a duffel off the sofa and her purse from the table before she turned back to look at him. “Please come, though. Sarah is really hoping to show you off.”
He set the drink down and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t want to show me off?”
Grace’s face paled at the question. A bolt of relief shot through him. She’d almost convinced him that she’d forgotten all about their few minutes on the balcony. “I’m going to be too busy to show much of anything,” she murmured.
Satisfied that she hadn’t written him off, he put her out of her misery. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll show up, play nice, and stay the hell out of your way.”
She bit at her bottom lip and he focused on the wall behind her, trying his hardest not to stare. “I’m sorry.” She actually sounded sincere this time. “I’m a bit stressed about today and have a lot on my mind.”
He considered her for a few seconds. She’d been snippy, but it was nowhere near rude. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No,” she asserted. “I’m also sorry about last night. I should’ve stopped it and I didn’t and I don’t want to lead—”
“Shut up, Grace.”
Her eyes shot to his. “What?”
Simon padded over to where she stood and towered over her. “Last night was fantastic, and I don’t want to hear a fucking apology come out of your mouth.”
A soft blush crept up her cheeks and he had to beat back the urge to take her face between his hands and repeat last night all over. “If you don’t want to do it again, that’s one thing. But don’t lie to my face and tell me you’re sorry. Now go and show all of the Hamptons exactly why you’re the best at what you do. I’ll be good today. Promise.”
She took a deep swallow and he stared at the muscle that moved in her neck. The neck he’d had his mouth on just hours ago. He should’ve marked her. The thought came out of nowhere. He couldn’t remember whether he’d ever given a woman a hickey in his life. Why would he start now?
“Thanks, Simon. I appreciate it.” She gave him a quick smile before she slipped out the door. He glanced out the window and saw that Dean’s pickup truck waited in front of the cottage.
He turned back to find Rigby and Princess staring up at him. Sighing, he took another drink of his coffee. It was going to be a long day.
CHAPTER TEN
Grace took a seat at one of the empty tables and pulled off her Bluetooth. Her aching feet got their first taste of relief in eight hours and she let out a deep breath. Another year, another Summer Blowout in the books.
Her eyes scanned the room at the remaining guests. Women had their shoes off, and the men had their ties loosened and the top buttons of their shirts undone. This was her favorite time of a party. All the formalities faded away, and old and new friends were able to really get to know one another.
So much of her job was full of thinly veiled intentions and double meanings. When all the acts dropped and it was just people getting together, that was when she really felt accomplished.
A familiar redhead caught her eye and for the first time that evening, she allowed herself to stare. Simon had been fantastic. He’d stayed out of her way, and the guests had adored him. She’d had at least five strangers pull her aside to thank her for bringing him. A few others had inquired about what her services had entailed and taken business cards.
She didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to leave a trail of money wherever he went.
Unlike the other men in the room, his shirt was still buttoned to the very top, and his jacket somehow managed to look fresh and crisp even though he’d been in it for most of the day.